Suppression
by v1dya
Summary: A cauldron abductee awakes on the streets of Brockton Bay on a certain fateful night, with a certain set of powers. SI fic.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: Worm is the property of Wildbow. **

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><p>My memory wasn't gone, exactly. It felt like someone had taken a sledgehammer to my mind, but only managed to make a few superficial dents. Trouble was, it was never that good to begin with.<p>

I didn't remember this alleyway, that I knew for sure. I definitely didn't have any tattoos, either. Yet here I was, in an alley with a "C" on my upper left arm.

_Now what does that remind me of? _Everything felt hazy. Actually, the sledgehammer analogy could probably be extended to my body as well. Maybe I'd tried working out again, and passed out? And then some joker came along and tattooed me just for kicks? No, that didn't make sense.

There was some sort of commotion nearby. I became aware of a ringing in my ears, preventing me from hearing exactly what was going. I got up shakily and began stumbling towards the noise.

_What if it's a fight or something? Could be. This looks like it might be the wrong side of the train tracks. Maybe I'd be better off phoning for help. I had a wallet, and a phone, but there was something distinctly unfamiliar about them. If I can use the wi-fi holy hell that's a fireball._

The blast headed straight for me, too wide to dodge. I threw myself to the ground, waited for the pain, but it never came.

_Did it veer upward, or something? _Much of my surroundings were scorched, but my immediate vicinity was clear. _Lucky, for once._

I glanced in the direction it came from to see - _is that guy on fire? Great_. In spite of my own problems, I figured I had to help - especially if this state had a mandatory good Samaritan law. _Are those even real? Or did I just see it on TV that one time?_

I moved towards the building he was on, but before I could even think about how to get to the roof, the burning man _jumped_, practically throwing himself towards me. He screamed, or rather bellowed, incoherently as he fell. I screamed too, when he splattered against the pavement. In what seemed like a sick joke, the fire seemed to have gone out shortly before he landed.

Morbid fascination led me to approach the corpse. It was hideously disfigured, and though I had no medical training, I suspected much of the damage wasn't due to the fire or the fall. Particularly what I saw around his nether regions.

_What kind of sick fuck would do this?_

I became aware of footsteps, and realized I was about to find out.

I thought of running, but my knees felt weak from the idea of it. The footfalls became heavier, quicker. I was bracing myself, but flinched anyway at the sight of -

_A giant bug?_ _No, I'm being stupid again. Someone in a bug costume. Someone in a bug costume who likes mutilating people and setting them on fire._ The pyromaniacal Jeffery Dahmer looked from the body to me. At this point, I figured things couldn't get any worse.

"Did you.. do this?" I asked. _Eloquent as usual, dammit. At least try to sound dignified at your last stand._

But the bug person - bug woman, it looked like, didn't sound any more impressive than me when she spoke belatedly.

"It shouldn't have - he should be regenerating," she stammered.

I began to back away. "You killed him," _Double dammit. Think before you speak._

I became aware of others, nearby. Four people in bizarre costumes, two guys, two girls, watching us. Also, some giant, four legged monsters. This sight however, freaked me out only briefly.

I collapsed with relief. I wasn't a witness to brutal murder in a strange city. I had just become completely insane.

One of them, dressed in black, approached Bug woman. Extended his hand, as if to shake, but she didn't go for. He was thanking her. _For what, for killing-_

"We didn't really have any good ideas, when we heard Lung was coming after us. Ended up trying to, you know, wing it. Worked out a lot better than I'd hoped."

_Well, that's super interesting, but I'll just be heading off_ now... My sarcastic inner dialogue came to a halt as I processed his words for a second time. Lung. _Lung. _

"Lung?" I managed, weakly, "Of the Asian Bad Boys?"

Another good decision on my part, drawing the attention of the four, _the Undersiders,_ I remembered. The small-time gang of villains from the fictional web serial. I assigned a higher probability to the utterly lost my mind scenario.

"Something's not right," interjected Tattletale. "I can't really get a read off of her." She seemed to be concentrating, backed up a few steps. "But we gotta go, ASAP." I could only imagine what her information granting powers were telling her about me.

"That's right," replied Grue, their de facto leader at this point in time. "You might want to get out of here," he said to Bug woman - Skitter - well, to Taylor, as she hadn't picked her name yet. "The Protectorate's gonna be here soon, and they'll have a witness." He gestured towards me. "They catch a bunch of villains standing over a dead body, well... it's something you'd rather avoid, right?"

Grue suddenly did a double take. He glanced at his hands.

"Step back," Tattletale said. She was already mounted onto one of Bitch's monstrous dogs.

Grue took her advice, and as he did, a small amount of darkness billowed forth. He muttered something to Tattletale as he mounted. She replied, but it was inaudible as they sped off.

Taylor gave no observable reaction to being mistaken for a villain, but I knew what was going through her head. _Ok, time to think before you speak._

"Um, just so you know," I began, "I didn't think you were a villain when I saw you."

"Really?" her reply was half desperate enough to want to believe it, half skeptical, based, no doubt on my initial reaction to her. But it was the truth, in a manner of speaking.

"Totally," I replied. "I mean, yes, I did think you might have been a homicidal maniac -"

She sank to her knees.

_Maybe, from now on, I should just keep my damn mouth shut._


	2. Chapter 2

"What do you mean, you can't control your bugs?" I asked, my voice was a bit higher than I'd have liked it. At least it was a perfectly legitimate question, from her point of view.

"My - powers," she managed. "I have a swarm of-"

Two things happened in quick succession. The drone of a motorcycle, heralding the arrival of an armored hero, cut her off. The man - _Armsmaster, I presume_ - arrived just in time to see an enormous body of insects stream out of one of the buildings.

Well, not just insects. There were black widows too. Probably other poisonous spiders... And worms, too, maybe. Did she actually control worms? It was question I was in no condition to think about.

See, on top of my other major flaws, I'm an insectophobe. And an arachnophobe. Really, just a creepy-crawly-phobe in general. As you might imagine, I was able to look at the horrible writhing mass descending upon us for about five seconds before I blacked out.

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><p>I woke briefly to find myself in what seemed to be a hospital bed.<p>

_Ok, I wasn't eaten alive. That's a start. _

Someone nearby, possibly a nurse, said something to me, as another person rushed out of the room. Though I was still groggy, I tried to take stock of my surroundings. The room was small, but I appeared to be the only patient. I tried to focus on the medical equipment, some of which looked vaguely familiar. I wasn't able to get my bearings, however, until an unfamiliar woman walked into the room.

She was dressed in camouflage that seemed rather pointless in light of the scarf and sash she wore, both of which had an American flag type thing going for them. For a moment, I wondered if she was some sort of political activist, or radical protester. Then I remembered that I'd gone insane and thought I was in the Worm universe. _So this must be..._

"Miss Militia," she introduced herself. After I did the same, she continued. "You collapsed in a cape-related incident, so the PRT became involved."

"I see..." I replied. "Are visits like this... routine?" It might have made sense to send Taylor, or Armsmaster even. But unless things had seriously ballooned out of control after I'd passed out, I couldn't see how Miss Militia could have gotten involved.

"No," she answered, somewhat solemnly. "I was sent here in light of some information related to the affair last night. You see..." She took a bit of breath, and I couldn't help but feel apprehensive. "We have reason to believe you are a parahuman."

_Oh. _Well, of course, Cauldron doesn't just put their mark on anybody. Had they seen it? Actually, did they even know what it meant, at this point?

"My power ordinarily gives me access to a weapon," Miss Militia began, "But as I was walking towards your room here, it vanished." I kept quiet, as I wasn't quite sure what I ought to say. "We actually noticed it on the night you were admitted here. A couple of heroes volunteered to test it, while you were sleeping. Coming within a certain distance of you seemed to suppress their parahuman abilities."

A number of facts concerning the events of the previous night fell into place as Miss Militia told me what had already been learned about my apparent power, and why the Protectorate thought I might be a useful asset. Those facts reminded me of something important.

"There was a cape with me last night," I said. "what - uh-"

"We took her into custody," she replied. "Her target was a supervillain, but we don't take kindly to lone minors executing criminals. Fortunately, she agreed to join our Wards program."

I processed that information with a mixture of exasperation and relief. At least Armsmaster hadn't decided to try and steal the credit for it. Probably a good idea on his part, since I was around as a witness. And Taylor was in the wards, now. No need for me to interfere at all with her, anymore. She wouldn't become a villain, wouldn't go to jail, or become an abomination. She could have a nice, normal, life, in... the... Wards...

The Wards... Where underage heroes hang out before they join the Protectorate. Where they frequently don't wear their masks. Where one of them, like Taylor now, was obligated to be a member or face going to jail. Unlike Taylor, that other Ward, Sophia Hess, was a psychopath, who just happened to spend much of her time as a civilian bullying Taylor.

What had she said, when she'd found out that Sophia was a Ward, in the story? Something about rather spending her life in prison than joining the Wards, I thought.

"I understand you might not like the idea of her being in a position of authority," Miss Militia began, having guessed incorrectly as to what part of what she'd just said was upsetting me. "But we believe in second chances, and-"

"Um, when is she scheduled to actually, like, get _into_ the Wards? As in, to actually meet her, er, teamates?"

"Actually," answered Miss Militia, glancing at her phone, "She should be getting introduced to them now." She paused, giving me a funny look. "Why?"

I was starting to think that maybe, my power wasn't actually suppression. Maybe, it was just to cause things to fail when I got near.


	3. Chapter 3

Would my power cancel out Panacea's healing?

It was a relevant question, under the circumstances. My initial fears, which had involved Taylor and Shadow Stalker destroying the Wards HQ in bug-filled brawl, had proved baseless. It wasn't too surprising, in retrospect. Taylor had only one victory to her name in this timeline, and I'd partially fouled it up. She didn't identify herself as anything other than a hero. So, when the establishment capes she'd hoped to join forced her to be on a team with the girl who'd tormented her, she didn't let loose her bugs. She didn't concoct some crazy plan to escape from the heroes' custody. She didn't even refuse.

She had instead given herself a bite from a poisonous spider.

It was lucky that her power operated at a certain level while she slept, preventing any other bugs she might have from doing any further damage. Even luckier was the presence of Panacea, who had happened to be in the building. The healer had managed to save Taylor, to keep the poison from finishing her off. But that begged the question, if I visited to try and fix this, would whatever anti-toxicity effects affecting Taylor dissolve? Actually, would _anyone _healed by Panacea suddenly come apart at the seams if they wandered into my radius?

Or, perhaps a more relevant question might be, should I even go over there? Every fanfiction I'd read with a premise like this usually ended up with the situation at least a _bit_ better than the canonical story... But I'd managed to foul up Taylor's first encounter royally, and it had been pretty screwed up to begin with.

An idea started to come together. Assuming my power made me immune to the various forms of lie detection floating around... No, better stick to the truth. Or something like it, anyway.

Miss Militia was almost out the door when I'd managed to catch up. Perhaps she was going to follow up the Wards incident, perhaps not, but either way, she was perhaps the only dependable adult hero in the city. Certainly the only one I could remember, at any rate.

"Exile," she greeted me, before turning around to face me. I'd picked that as my cape name. They would think it alluded to my 'exiling' powers.

I was slightly nonplussed. "How did you-?" I stopped as she gestured with her hands. Her empty hands.

_Right, her weapon goes away whenever I'm near. I'm not gonna be doing many stealth missions, I think._ I wondered if she would get sleepy in my presence.

"Nevermind," I continued. "I think I have some information that might be of use. It's sort of a... side effect, I think." _A side effect of being thrown into a world where I know a bunch of random people's life stories._

"Thinker powers?" she asked. I gave an ambiguous head-waggle. "Is it something that might help us with our current situation?"

"Yes," I replied hurriedly. "The girl - Taylor, she's been bullied by one of your wards - Sophia Hess, for a long time. It was a result of this that caused her to trigger in the first place. She's been nearly suicidal lately, and seeing Hess on the Wards team..."

Miss Militia stared. "You know their names."

"A side effect..." I trailed off, not wanting to elaborate.

"Do you know mine?"

I paused, trying to decide between not causing alarm and bolstering my case. I drew closer to her. "Your first name is Hannah. You triggered when a bunch of Turkish soldiers took children to use as minesweepers. You don't need to sleep, and you _remember._"

She didn't react, at first. "And you can get this kind of information about anyone in your vicinity?"

"No. Nono. It's only some people, and it doesn't seem related to my radius. The truth is... I knew all of that last night. I've had that knowledge for as long as I've had powers." _And well before, but this isn't the time to get into unimportant details._

"If it's true... And I suppose it would it would easy to verify... It would certainly be a mitigating factor. We probably wouldn't charge her for suicide."

Well. I guess that's progress, of a sort. "And her status with the Wards?"

"She'd either have to stay until her probationary period is over, or go to jail."

"She'll pick jail," I spat, frustrated. "Look, I'm the only victim of hers without any murders to my name. Can't I say I don't want her prosecuted? Get her community service or something, at least?"

"It's a thought," began Miss Militia. "Maybe you should meet with her. Her guardian and some officials are discussing her case now. I'm sure they'd take what you'd say into consideration, especially given your... other powers."

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><p>And so here I was, about to find out something else about my powers, and if I could possibly make things even worse. Armsmaster was escorting me, though I had to figure I had less to fear from Taylor by myself than he did.<p>

"Can I try something out?" I asked. He grunted affirmatively. _Right, he's not a people person._ Hell, he makes _me_ look like a people person.

"I'm a spotted unicorn from outer space," I said. He stared.

"I am _not_ a spotted unicorn from outer space," I stated subsequently. "Notice anything?"

Armsmaster looked at me suspiciously. "Miss Militia told me about your secondary power..."

Well, he's quick on the uptake, at least. "Yeah, I know about your lie detector. What did it say?"

He paused, as if he was unsure whether I could be trusted. Perhaps it was because I'd agreed to join the protectorate that he decided to share the results with me. "It told me both statements were true."

So my power affected tinker tech. Would it affect a bio-tinker's work? I shared my concerns with Armsmaster.

"Unlikely," he replied. "The Hebert girl's in the other room, but she's in your radius now. We'd have heard screaming of some kind if she were relapsing, I presume."

_Good that you care so much about a minor in your custody, douche... Dammit, he really shouldn't be here._

We entered the room. Armsmaster was the only costumed cape present; Taylor was still in some kind of patient gown, with her dad, or so I assumed, sitting next to her, and some PRT officials sitting across from them. Well, I was wearing some PRT gear too, including a face mask. No real costume yet, but I was seeing the benefits of having a false identity in my situation. All of them looked at the new arrivals curiously.

"This is Exile," said Armsmaster, gesturing to me. At their blank stares, he added. "The one who Ms. Hebert traumatized last night."

_Ok, dude, not helping._ I wondered if it would be more beneficial to denounce him, to try and get him out of this room, at least? Then again, I might need to be civil with him, if I wanted any hope of the charges being dealt with.

Taylor, who was already sitting with her eyes downcast, slumped. Danny Hebert got up. He began apologizing, gestured for Taylor to do the same. She did so, hollowly.

"It might be more serious a situation than we've previously understood," Armsmaster said, interrupting Danny. "Exile actually seems to have developed powers last night. Your daughter might be responsible for a trigger event." I cursed internally as Taylor winced at this statement.

_Now you're just lying, you armored bastard. _I realized, too late, that things could always get worse.


	4. Chapter 4

**So, this update looks like it's two chapters, and... it basically works out to two chapters worth of new material in the end, but it's not quite that straightforward. In light of some of the critiques chapter four received, I decided to revamp it. The new chapter four focuses on the first part of the old one, which has been expanded considerably. Chapter five consists of the remainder of the old chapter four, with some additions. Chapter six is completely new.**

**I've tried my hand at beefing up the dialogue and slowing down the pace. My instinct on those parts seems to be leading me astray here; I frequently get an impulse to condense conversations by describing them rather than depicting them. Here I've attempted to fight that. Let me know what you think of my attempts at dialogue.**

**Thanks, as always, for the feedback, faves, and follows.**

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><p><em>It seems like everything I'm doing is just making things worse. Everything I say comes out wrong. But with with the ass here in charge, keeping quiet could be just as bad.<em>

"Ms. He- Taylor," I began. "I just wanted to say that I don't blame you in the slightest for what happened." Everyone seemed a bit surprised at that, especially Taylor.

"But I caused you to trigger," she said tonelessly. I could hear the self-loathing in her voice.

"That's - Ok, look. I'm just gonna come clean, and let you know that I have a... low level thinker power of sorts." I was lying through my teeth now, but hey, there was no way to check.. "I know that after what you've been through, you would never do something trigger worthy to someone."

Far from looking relieved, Taylor widened her eyes in what I was fairly certain was horror. As I began to mentally backpedal, to think of a way to assure her that I wasn't about to expose her most terrible secrets to everyone present, I had a moment of inspiration.

_I am not remotely qualified for this._

There was not, I realized, anything whatsoever in my background that made me slightly capable of solving this problem. I wasn't a therapist, or conflict-resolver, or even a particularly skilled conversationalist. _Of course_ things were going to get worse if I tried blundering in and trying to solve things directly.

Danny Hebert had already put two and two together, judging by his next question. "Taylor," he began, turning to her, "Did you trigger during the ... incident?"

She nodded reluctantly, not meeting his gaze.

"Excuse me," interrupted Armsmaster, "But if I were you, Mr. Hebert, I'd be focused on your daughter's legal options. Underage would-be heroes are usually given a choice about joining the Wards, but a kill, regardless of the circumstances, makes the process more necessary. Since Ms. Hebert refuses to even articulate her reasons for refusal, we may be looking at -"

I cursed internally, remembering that she hadn't talked about it even in the face of far direr consequences. Evidently, however she'd found out Sophia was in the Wards, the latter hadn't done Taylor the favor of exposing herself as a bully.

_A straight up brawl might have been better..._

If I spilled the beans, would Taylor respect me for standing up for her? Or would she just be humiliated by my airing of her dirty laundry?

With Armsmaster blustering on, I took a moment to think as to how to phrase things as effectively as possible...

"The circumstances of Taylor's trigger event are of paramount importance," I said, breaking into the conversation. "Specifically, as a mitigating factor, as well as an explanation of her actions today."

Armsmaster looked doubtful, but didn't try to talk over me. Danny was now focusing on me, while Taylor's expression was unreadable.

"Shadow Stalker, in her civilian life, has spent a good deal of time bullying Taylor. She was responsible for Taylor's trigger, as well as various instances of assault, theft, and general abuse. Under those circumstances, being forced to be around Shadow Stalker while being a cape, on top of everything else, seemed to her a fate worse than death."

"That... doesn't sound impossible, for Shadow Stalker..." said Armsmaster, "Though of course I can't verify your statements."

_Right._

"No, But you can verify hers." I gestured at Taylor.

"Why would they believe me?" she asked, speaking up for the first time since I'd gotten there. "They've had Sophia running around as a_hero _while she was making my life _hell_. They don't give a shit what she does."

"It's a bit more more com.." I hastily changed tack. "I'm not denying they're flawed, but the Protectorate has ways of separating the truth from lies. If you tell Armsmaster what happened accurately, he'll know." _And hopefully, he'll actually do something about it..._

She laughed bitterly. "I don't know why I should believe you either. You don't have any reason to help me. The opposite, if anything."

I grabbed a piece of paper, and scribbled down my freshly assigned Protectorate contact info."You can get ahold of me with this. If nothing comes of this..." Well, it probably wasn't a good idea to discuss that here, I realized. "Assuming what I said is confirmed, what _would_ happen?" I asked Armsmaster.

He was silent for a moment. "It would be a violation of the terms under which Shadow Stalker joined the Wards. She wouldn't be allowed to stay."

I moved to leave, hoping I wasn't imagining the expression of cautious hopefulness on Taylor's face. After I was well out of the way, I took a moment to pen a statement, just in case.

_I, the parahuman known as Exile, swear that to the best of my knowledge, the following statements are true._

_-Taylor Hebert was trapped in a locker with hazardous material as a direct result of the actions of Sophia Hess, Emma Barnes, and Madison Clements, all of whom are students at Winslow high school. The conditions were horrific enough to cause Taylor to trigger._

_-Sophia and Emma were also responsible for destroying a flute belonging to Taylor Hebert's deceased mother. _

_-The aforementioned trio trapped Taylor in a bathroom stall and doused her with juice._

_-Additional such incidents have occurred throughout the past months._

_-The trio are also responsible for generally ostracizing Taylor and isolating her from others in her grade._

It was accurate, as far as I could remember. I left one copy of the statement with an official, and another with a receptionist, with instructions that it be given to Danny.

* * *

><p>My quarters were in the Protectorate building. There were no Wards around; to my surprise, I learned that they had a separate building for their headquarters. <em>Was that in the story? Did I just forget it? <em>My ignorance on that front seemed to have piqued my guest's interest. Though, it might have been more accurate to say I was her guest.

"Remind me, Exile, of the circumstances which led you to my city," said Director Piggot. It was more a command than a suggestion.

I opted for honesty. "I don't remember, exactly. I remember going to sleep normally, and waking up in an alley..."

"Did you notice any - alterations to yourself?" My eyes widened involuntarily. _How much do they know at this point?_

"I found a tattoo that I don't remember getting," I replied truthfully. "Otherwise, nothing."

She inspected it herself, though I'd have been shocked if she hadn't either looked at it herself previously, or heard about it from someone else from the hospital. I could sense the direction the conversation was going.

"Situations like yours are not unprecedented. Usually, there are drastic changes in physical appearance, as well as... you said your memories are compromised?"

"Somewhat," I started, preparing for some major truth stretching. "I definitely don't recall anything between my last night at home and my arrival here. What's more, I've been checking around, and my address, as I remember it, doesn't exist. What's more, none of the credit cards or IDs I found in my wallet seem to be functional..."

_Take the bait... Take the bait..._

"Constructing an identity... That's more effort than they usually put..."

I was genuinely curious as to how much the PRT knew, at this point. "'They,' Ma'am?"

"That's above your pay grade." She paused."On that note, I have here the terms of your employment..."

* * *

><p>There was a great deal of paperwork, and for the moment, I was stuck as an affiliated contractor of sorts. Normally, it seemed, you had to disclose your identity, but since I was having 'memory problems' and since every document I had on hand seemed, to them, to be a well-made forgery, I was getting an exception. Until then, though, I was left in a less than fully fledged hero status.<p>

At least I had a fancy computer. It was decent, by the standards of 2014, even. I was struck for a moment by the fact that it wasn't a Windows or a Mac, until I realized that of course, the odds of any familiar companies which arose past the point of divergence existing in this world were quite low. I navigated my unfamiliar browser to the parahumans wiki, and started to read. If I was going to be in this world, after all, I might as well be prepared.

_So that's what the Sleeper's powers are, Good thing he probably won't do much with the main plot until the sequel... _I paused, to try and parse the insane logic of my previous thought, when I heard a knock on the door.

I winced reflexively at the sight of the bug-themed uniform, after which my phobic reaction gave way to shock that they'd let her go out and about so easily.

"Is this a bad time?" she asked, clearly having taken note of my response.

"N-not at all," I said, collecting myself. "Come on in." She walked into my room, which at least was still pristine, as I'd been there for only a day. "Just a bit surprised... I take it Armsmaster listened?"

She paused. "He's got a lie detector, right?" I nodded. "Would explain a lot. He didn't doubt anything I said. And then, when I said I wasn't going to try and run, or off myself again, he had them let me go."

_At least something's going right, for once..._ At that thought, I reflexively imagined everything that could go wrong.

"Ah, your swarm-"

"Don't worry," she said ruefully, "I've got them stored in a room at Wards HQ."

"Oh, well that's - wait, so you joined after all?"

"Well," she said with a trace of bitterness, "I don't have much of a choice... And Miss Militia told me they'd probably be getting rid of Sophia, so, I figured, fuck it."

"They'd _probably _be getting rid of her?"

"They said they have to review the evidence... Do you know how it's gonna go?"

I must have looked confused, because she added, "With your power, I mean."

Oh, right. "It doesn't really work like that... All in all, it was more like a one-time infodump."

She nodded in acquiescence.

"Er," I began, "Do you think you'll be ok? Being in the Wards with her, I mean? Though I'm sure they'll get rid of her quickly-"

"I'll manage," she said shortly. "I kind of got the impression some of the others didn't like her much, either."

I seized upon the piece of good news she had reminded me of, and I spent some time telling her of every negative interaction I could think of involving Sophia and the rest of the wards. Most of what I knew of hadn't happened yet, but at least I could say a few things. Taylor seemed a bit more heartened to learn that Sophia didn't really have any friends among the Wards, though I sensed some distrust of the Protectorate in general, and me in particular, still remained. I had no work to do, so after she left, I settled into bed.

_Today wasn't a complete failure_, I thought. _Let's hope it stays that way. _


	5. Chapter 5

**So, this update looks like it's two chapters, and... it basically works out to two chapters worth of new material in the end, but it's not quite that straightforward. In light of some of the critiques chapter four received, I decided to revamp it. The new chapter four focuses on the first part of the old one, which has been expanded considerably. Chapter five consists of the remainder of the old chapter four, with some additions. Chapter six is completely new.**

**I've tried my hand at beefing up the dialogue and slowing down the pace. My instinct on those parts seems to be leading me astray here; I frequently get an impulse to condense conversations by describing them rather than depicting them. Here I've attempted to fight that. Let me know what you think of my attempts at dialogue.**

**Thanks, as always, for the feedback, faves, and follows.**

* * *

><p>I reported to Armsmaster in the morning. Apparently, he was my boss now.<em><br>_

"You'll basically be an escort for your next assignment," Armsmaster told me.

I'd raised my eyebrows, but he seemed completely unaware of what he'd just said.

"There's a murder trial, involving a rogue parahuman. The nature of her abilities, would, under normal circumstances, make her testifying an impossibility. Someone involved got wind of you, thought you'd be able to assist with the trial."

Canary, I recalled. Well, if I could stop her from being sentenced to life without parole, it might be my first unambiguous success in this universe. I agreed to the job, which soon saw me whisked away to an underground facility, the basement of a prison.

It figured that I was finally in a room with a bound and gagged woman, and couldn't even find it a little bit sexy. Of course, part of that was due to the fact her restraints were there for the safety of others. The other part of it was probably the judge, lawyers, and PRT officials. Most of them were watching through a glass window which was thoroughly soundproofed, I was sure. A few were standing guard in the room as well, in protective gear. Two flanked me, two others stood on either side of Canary, alias Paige Macabee.

It was, they explained, just in case I wasn't able to suppress her powers. To keep her from, say, taking me hostage. I sighed internally, but it wasn't all too unreasonable, from their perspective. They'd never been inside her head. They couldn't tell that she wouldn't run.

One of the PRT guards near Canary began fiddling with her gag, removing it. The other handed her a sheet of paper. The song they'd given her... was tasteless, to say the least.

_Let's say I wasn't immune. Would you people really want me shaking around- well, actually, it probably was a decent test. _There was no subtle, unnoticeable way the commands inherent in the song could have affected me.

"I want a new lawyer," Canary said, after it had been thoroughly confirmed that, within my radius, her power was completely nullified. She kept quiet after that, but I could guess that with competent legal representation, she might be able to file a complaint about civil rights violations, or something.

I kept my mouth shut too, burying my face in my phone. _I'm sure I'll screw this up somehow, given the chance._

* * *

><p>Canary was a more combative personality than I remembered, answering questions in court with a mixture of acidity and indignation. She had managed to insert some details about her incarceration into her testimony, winning a little sympathy, though those details, the judge ruled, weren't relevant as such to the case at hand. I had a premium seat to watch the proceedings, since I had to be within sixteen-odd feet of her at all times. After some negotiations, they put her in a small cell in the prison, adjacent to a room that had been converted into my own quarters. That way, she didn't need to be restrained while I slept, either.<p>

I had avoided conversation, in light of my track record. But as they locked her in her new cell, she spoke to me.

"Thank you for taking the time to do this," she said. She sounded grateful, but I didn't see the kind of desperate relief I might have expected her to display. It was then that I remembered.

_Her sentence came as a_ _surprise, in the original sequence of events. _Although she could have been convicted of murder, it was an unlikely charge. The worst she could reasonably expect was a harsh sentence for manslaughter and sexual assault. While serious crimes in and of themselves, for a first time offender, it wasn't the kind of thing which warranted being sentenced to the Birdcage.

"No problem," I replied. "You don't deserve what they're planning on doing to y-" I cut myself off, far too late.

_Shit shit shit_. I watched the alarmed expression on her face. "What? What do you mean?"

"Well, I can only speculate, of course," I began, trying to obfuscate.

She didn't to buy it.

"Well, uh, due to the nature of your power, they might be overly cautious in their sentencing..."

"That's good, right?" she asked, confused.

"Over cautious erring on the side of public safety, I mean. They think you might use your power to enslave people, build yourself an army of followers, that sort of thing."

She looked appalled. "I would never - how - what does that even have to do with this trial?"

"They won't be thinking about what you _would _do, or at least, that's what my, uh, power tells me. They're thinking about what you could do. Based on that, they rank you as a threat potentially at the level of say, Teacher. Maybe not quite Sleeper or Simurgh, but-"

"Legally, I'm on trial for my ex's death, so how can they factor that into their verdict?"

"Legally? I'd ask your lawyer about that... All I know is that they _are _thinking about those things, and given the chance, they'll use it to have you sent to the Birdcage."

Canary was no fool, either. "Your power tells you what they're planning on doing, but not some legal technicalities anyone could look up?"

"It doesn't work like that - look, do you want to go to the Birdcage?"

Of course she shook her head no, but I didn't think it registered in her mind as a real possibility, yet.

* * *

><p>"A deal?"<p>

We were in the judge's office. It was packed, between both the prosecution and the defense, plus the PRT uniforms still following us around.

"Just manslaughter isn't acceptable," the prosecutor. "I would only consider taking the deal if she cops to the sexual assault charge as well."

Canary glared. "It wasn't intentional. "I had no idea that -"

"And even if she did," the prosecutor continued, "There are other considerations. We can't keep her confined in perpetuity, unless Exile here is willing to stay on as a guard for the entirety of her sentence."

"So you'll send her to the Birdcage," her lawyer remarked, with the information I'd provided. "Because the alternative would be _inhumane_."

Several people in the room were jolted. Canary looked more concerned as well, having learned that I'd been telling the truth last evening.

The defense broached the subject of her becoming a hero, in exchange for leniency. This statement produced a small uproar, and a call for a five minute break.

"Look, I'm grateful to you for warning me," Canary said to me in a hallway. "But there's a reason I didn't want to join the Protectorate. I'm not a fighter, and even if was, they're not making the world a better place. They're corrupt as hell, and-"

"Would it be worse than the Birdcage?" I asked. She deflated, somewhat, but I could tell the possibility of going there still hadn't sunk into her mind.

"..No. So I would be.."

"With me, I imagine, until they start trusting you more," That was optimistic, actually. Barring some heroism on her part, I doubted a director like Piggot would ever allow someone with a power like hers to wander around freely. Even then, it seemed unlikely. Of course, there would be an opportunity to test that hypothesis soon enough.

Her powers, actually, would complement mine rather well, if she were to be in charge of any actual interrogating. I doubted that was going to fly, though.

"Even if they go easy on you, this is probably the only way you get out of this without being labeled a sex offender. But it's your call."

"But I told you, I told everyone, I didn't _mean_ to do it. Doesn't intent count for anything?"

I shrugged. "I told you I know about stuff, Ms. Macabee . I know you didn't mean it, and I know they'll convict you all the same."

"It's... How do I know I can trust you? Maybe," she began, and I could see a glimmer of wild hope in her eyes, "This is some sort of crazy plot, to _force _me to work for the Protectorate."

"Really?" I replied.

"I don't have any proof you have this secondary power at all... You could be lying about their plans."

Of course I wasn't lying about their plans, though I was lying about my powers. But then, I remembered something that could prove it to her. I glanced around, to make sure no one was in earshot.

"Were you this cautious when you went to buy your powers, Ms. Macabee?" She recoiled in shock. "Don't draw attention to yourself ," I chided.

"Are you," she whispered, her voice filled with fear, "_with them_?"

I sighed. "No. Though, actually, they gave me my powers, too." I revealed my tattoo to her, leaving her looking confused.

"So you bought your powers too? Then, why are you threatening-"

"I'm not threatening you, just showing that I know what I'm talking about. But for the record, I didn't _buy_ my powers."

Now she seemed even more confused. "They gave you a freebie?"

"That's... one way of putting it. They kidnapped me. Oh yes," I said as she raised her eyebrows. "The truth is, the stuff you've been complicit in by supporting them dwarfs the evil you could accomplish as mind-controlling supervillain."

Now she looked genuinely alarmed. "Like what?"

"Take the deal, and I'll tell you."

Finally, she relented. "They might not even offer it, though."

"As long as you're in my radius, you're just a normal person. You'll have to hang around in a government facility one way or the other, and I'm willing to volunteer my assistance. It would be similar to your quarters now... A bit more comfortable, hopefully."

_My good deed for the day._ I was somewhat exasperated, in spite of what was arguably my first success in this world. _And she's one of the more decent people in this whole place, too.._

I wasn't looking forward to meeting Alexandria. At least, I thought, she wouldn't be able to strangle me. Well, actually, she probably would, but at least it wouldn't be quick...

My power sucks.


	6. Chapter 6

**So, this update looks like it's two chapters, and... it basically works out to two chapters worth of new material in the end, but it's not quite that straightforward. In light of some of the critiques chapter four received, I decided to revamp it. The new chapter four focuses on the first part of the old one, which has been expanded considerably. Chapter five consists of the remainder of the old chapter four, with some additions. Chapter six is completely new.**

**I've tried my hand at beefing up the dialogue and slowing down the pace. My instinct on those parts seems to be leading me astray here; I frequently get an impulse to condense conversations by describing them rather than depicting them. Here I've attempted to fight that. Let me know what you think of my attempts at dialogue.**

**Thanks, as always, for the feedback, faves, and follows.**

* * *

><p><em>I gotta stop drinking<em>.

That was my first thought, as I woke up. I could smell the alcohol on my breath. Of course, I had been celebrating my successful rescue of Canary...

I noticed a balled up figure in the corner of my room.

"Uh, Paige?" I said, cautiously. She seemed to register my saying her name, meeting me with a gaze of unremitting horror. I tried to remember what had happened yesterday.

"Did I... uh, do something bad?"

She shook her head, slowly.

"Did I say something bad?"

She gave a quick, vigorous nod.

_Well, that could be any number of things..._

"Something about Cauldron?"

"That's not what I meant," she replied, shaking her head. "Though it was bad enough."

_Worse than that, then..._

"About the Slaughterhouse Nine?"

She shook her head, no doubt now wondering what information I had on them that could make them more horrifying.

"The... Endbringers?"

"Leviathan!" she practically screamed. "You said he was going to attack this city!"

Oh. Fuck.

"Keep your voice down, dammit." I began to enter damage control mode. "For one thing, I don't even know if it's going to happen that way, now that I've... uh, well-"

"Now that you've _what_?" She seemed half-horrified, half-amazed that I might be doing anything about them at all.

I had been thinking of a plan, actually. It would be optimistic to assume the endbringers would just decay around me, but...

if Eidolon was within my radius...

"Keep quiet." I hissed. "I have a plan, ok? I think I know who's controlling them. I'm gonna see if I can interrupt his powers."

This statement managed to shock her into silence.

My plan might work, provided the Endbringers behaved similarly to how they'd acted after Eidolon had died in the story. And provided that Eidolon really was subconsciously controlling them... And assuming the Simurgh wasn't planning for all of this already. Hopefully, my power was comparable to whatever gave Zion immunity to her powers. If it was an unadulterated Eden shard, it just might be.

"You haven't told anyone else about this?" she asked. "Shouldn't you-"

"Ok, look," I began. "Let me tell you something about another Endbringer. The Simurgh. She can literally perceive almost anything, anywhere. I _might _be immune to her power, or I might not be. What I know for sure, though, is that you aren't, nor are the vast majority of people alive. If one of them finds out, then they'll know that I know, and then _she'll _know that I know. Even if she can't strike at me directly, she'll try to work around my power. And she'll probably succeed."

Paige took a moment to absorb this. "The Simurgh can attack anyone, at any time?" she asked. I nodded. "But you're immune?"

"I _might _be. But if I'm not, then I figure I'm already screwed." She didn't seem pleased by my reasoning, but at least she wasn't yelling any more. _Now to pray that the room isn't bugged._

"Who is it?"

"Who is..."

"The controller."

"If I told you..."

"I have to be within 16 feet of you at all times anyway."

"If _you_ tell anyone-"

"You'll use your powers to blackmail me or something. I'm not going to talk. And if your power doesn't protect within your radius, we're already dead, right?"

I glared at her, but I couldn't think of a reasonable rebuttal. "Eidolon."

"Huh?"

"That's your answer."

"That's- there's, why-" she babbled.

"I'm not a hundred percent on it actually. That's just what Scion had to say on the subject."

She stopped making talking sounds.

"On a somewhat related note, Eidolon is one of _their_ chief agents." I absently gestured towards my left arm. "Which is why I haven't tried appealing to him directly."

That snapped her out of her brief stupor. "One of the triumvirate is part of a group which kidnaps people and experiments on them?"

"All of them, actually. One of them controls the PRT, too, so I'd avoid mentioning it too loudly around here."

Canary looked distraught. "Right... I knew they were corrupt, but, Jesus..."

"So, Paige," I managed to put on a false grin. "Whaddya think of your new workplace?"

* * *

><p>"Your task today involves shadowing a detachment of CPS agents," said Armsmaster.<p>

...That sounded suspiciously simple. But what use would I be on such a mission? Unless...

"So we're rescuing some kids from an abusive parahuman parent?" I asked.

"Naturally."Armsmaster stared. "You haven't heard? It was all over the news..." I had a premonition of what was about to come. Armsmaster turned to a terminal to call up an article. "The secret identities of the parahumans of Empire Eighty-Eight have been revealed. Among them is one Kayden Anders, who is otherwise known as Purity. She is an exceptionally dangerous parahuman."

As Armsmaster described Purity's abilities to an increasingly apprehensive Canary, I was left to wonder why Coil had released that information early. It was, as best I could remember, a post-Leviathan incident.

_Well, Lung is gone for good, now. Maybe the ABB rate low enough on the threat scale now that he has to do this, to balance it out? _

Come to think of it, Bakuda was still running around. If she found out where to target E88 capes... Would my power work on her bombs? I'd probably find out, soon enough.

* * *

><p>We were dressed in street clothes, with body armor stored in backpacks given to a few of us. We had helmets as well, which served to conceal our identities, hopefully keeping Canary and myself from being dragged into the many conflicts brewing in the city from Canary and myself, our party consisted solely of CPS agents. We moved as a group, into her building. With lookouts throughout the hallway, we slipped into our armor.<p>

If she slipped into my radius properly, of course, that would take care of the most imposing threat; Purity's powerful ranged attacks. But if, for instance, a bunch of ordinary E88 - or ABB - thugs happened to be lying in wait, the armored agents would be necessary.

"How's it gonna go?" Canary asked me as well moved toward's Purity's place.

"Ah, let's see," I said as I tried to recall. "One to two kids, hopefully just one to two... uh, major threats..."

A yell snapped us out of our nascent conversation. The advance agents had already gotten Purity to open her door. The latter was arguing with them with increasing desperation.

"All we have to do is stand here," I muttered. "Don't get close." I resisted my own impulse to try and look inside, to see if Theo was in there as well. Aster's presence was soon confirmed by her wailing, perhaps in response to her mother's distress. She could, after all, have a knife, or something. And hell, at this point, Theo would probably be less well disposed to an effort to separate him from Kayden.

And as I thought it, a teenage boy came running, not from inside the building, but from the hallway, having dropped a number of envelopes he was carrying at the sight of his stepmother's distress.

In a move which was unimpressive from a PR standpoint, two agents tackled Theo. Kayden made a gesture which probably would have been accompanied by a blast of light, but here only resulted in giving herself a nasty surprise, as she realized her powers were nonfunctional.

As a nonwhite person, I decided the best thing for me to do would be to hang out in the background, and hope that none of the passers-by in the near vicinity who had turned out to watch the spectacle were with E88. It was at this thought that everything went white.

* * *

><p>As I felt my consciousness turn back on, I remembered enough to deduce that I was probably the victim of a bomb.<p>

"Are you waking up?" a voice asked. Female.

_Aw shit. Could it be Bakuda? Maybe not, it was kind of familiar..._

"Canary?" I asked weakly.

"It's Paige," she replied, sounding winded herself.

"Don't use your real name on missions," I rasped. As my vision cleared, I saw she wasn't wearing her helmet. I cursed as I realized I wasn't wearing mine, either.

The - not a room, exactly - that we were in was dim, the only source of light coming from a small crack above. Rubble was strewn everywhere. Perhaps more strangely, a large, concrete hand rose up from the ground. At the opposite end of the room, a figure was nearly pressed up against the wall, kneeling, with one hand seemingly stuck in the floor. He had noticed me coming to.

"Can you turn off your power?" Theo asked. His voice sounded... not hollow, exactly. Far from defeated. But there was a little less life in it, than when he'd yelled at the agents accosting his stepmother.

I paused, processing the fact that he'd triggered, and somehow knew of my ability. I turned to Canary accusingly.

She shrugged. "We had some close calls, when he ran into your range. I had to tell him."

I realized belatedly that though Theo wasn't in my radius, his giant hand _was._

"I can't move it at all, but it doesn't collapse as long as I keep my hand down," he explained.

"Hang on a sec," I said as I pulled myself together. "But you were able to set it up in the first place?"

"And move it for a while, too. But before you woke up, I started losing control."

I knew from experiment that my power didn't decrease when I slept. But, apparently, it did diminish when I was injured. Maybe I could learn to control it... But for now, we needed a quicker fix.

"Theo," I said. He did a double take, as he realized that I knew his name. "Think you can dig us out of here, if I can turn my power off?"

He considered the question. "Maybe?" he replied. "I can try, but with just one hand..."

"You can use both your hands, your arms, your feet, and your legs," I informed him. "Your face, as well, but two hands will probably be best for this situation."

He stared as I picked up a stray piece of metal nearby. "Good luck," I told him, after which I bashed myself in the head.


End file.
